


The Death of General Albert Burkhalter

by DixieDale



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 09:09:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21425734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: For related events, see story 'The Return of Otto Linkmeyer',  Also refers to events in 'Hochstetter's Halloween Party', 'Under The Big Top', and indirectly to 'Each In Their Own Way'.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	The Death of General Albert Burkhalter

**Author's Note:**

> For related events, see story 'The Return of Otto Linkmeyer', Also refers to events in 'Hochstetter's Halloween Party', 'Under The Big Top', and indirectly to 'Each In Their Own Way'.

I think I knew when I walked through the meeting room door. I was the last to arrive; most everyone else was already seated around the table. There was just something in the way none of those seven quite met my eyes, that faint sheen of sweat on more than one forehead, a nervous moistening of the lips by Derning, at the far end. 

Lauder, though, one of the two officers still standing, he had a look of restrained hunger, like a wolverine who'd just spotted a wounded otter. He was thirsting for blood, all but drooling in anticipation.

"Ah, General Burkhalter. We have been expecting you," Meyer smiled, fake geniality taking the forefront. He also stood, glass in hand, giving me a friendly nod as he took a casual sip from his drink. None of that took away from the anticipatory tension, that almost imperceptible quiver in his lean body.

Well, Meyer was a predator as well. The stories of him feasting on the internal organs of his victims had never struck me as unlikely as some of the stories being spread around Berlin these days. Actually, I could quite easily imagine that happening. Certainly if he did not literally devour the flesh of those he destroyed, he DID drink deeply of their pain, their terror before death finally came for them.

I am a soldier, have been for my entire adult life. Even before, I suppose, my father insisting I get military-type training from the time I could hold a rifle. Death is not something I ever expected to avoid; well, no one does, do they? Not in the long run.

I have experienced pain; I have experienced terror as well. Never let anyone tell you that a soldier never feels such fear, never has it chill his very marrow. Those who would tell you that either do not know, or are ashamed to admit the truth.

Yes, I can see the faint movement out of the corner of my eye, the black-clad men easing their pistols out of their holsters. Soon it will possibly be too late.

Well, in many ways, it is already too late, of course. There is nothing I can say or do that will prevent my death. Nothing that will prevent the hydra-like beast that serves the monster who controls Germany from taking its revenge on those I would prefer to protect. 

Gertruda will know, of course, perhaps even before she realizes I have not called as arranged; we are too close for her not to know. She has prepared for this possibility as well; she will take the appropriate action for her, for our mother. 

Ah, mother. I imagine the knowledge that I, that Gertruda and I, made this decision, decided to do what we could to combat the internal forces trying to destroy our homeland, will be more bitter than the glass my dear sister will offer her. She will most likely drink it eagerly, though, if for no other reason than to avoid the humiliation of what she will see as our great failing. 

As for Berta? My not-so-very-dear wife, perhaps you can call upon your brother for assistance. After all, he IS one of Hitler's most loyal hounds. Quite possibly the one who saw too much, started to suspect?

Almost without thinking I have been worrying away with my tongue at that tooth, the one I've made no secret for a very long time of how it has been bothering me. I've done it for so very long, that it isn't all that obvious to the casual observer, especially those in this room, not of something untoward. I've heard it laughed about, on occasion, as a 'nervous habit', though never so loudly as to draw my ire. Well, I WANTED them to get used to the sight, become accustomed to that faint motion of my tongue, my jaw. That would, just possibly, give me the added time I would need to suit my purpose.

Yes, it gave way just then, and then, with a snap it is in the crease of my jaw. A quick gathering of saliva, an even quicker movement of my tongue, a sideways motion of my jaw, as if releasing tension, and it is done. 

I seat myself at my usual place, reach for my glass and take an appreciative drink of the liquid there. That should wash any remains of the gift that was shielded within that tooth directly into my system, hasten the ending. 

As I said, I have experienced pain, terror. I do not relish it. However, I DO relish denying these men the ability to inflict either of those on me, particularly the two waiting like hungry hyenas for me to falter, to quail as they circle closer for the kill. 

I let a smile come to my face, if not particularly to my eyes, nodding to each of them in turn.

"Gentlemen, good day to you. And how are you on this fine crisp morning?"

Ah, that cackle that came from Lauder truly WAS much like one of those slinking predators from the Berlin zoo! And the smile of satisfaction on Meyer's face? Enough to frighten the bravest of men, truly.

I cannot help myself, feel the smile on my lips turn into something more, far more, feel the laughter start. Indeed, it had been quite some time since I had laughed that hard, perhaps when I was describing that idiot Klink and his bat-like appearance to my sister, after that very odd series of events at the Stalag. No, not even then. Then I remembered - it was when I learned that Klink had been assigned to teach his 'expert management and combat-ready fitness skills' at that special 'best of the best' seminar.

Now, I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks, and I could still not stop the laughter. 

You can only imagine the looks on their faces, Lauder, Meyer, all the rest. Confusion, yes, among the other seven, but with a growing fury for those two, as they began to suspect I was not merely becoming hysterical at being caught out, but that somehow I felt I had the upperhand.

"Yes, yes," I managed to gasp, still laughing, tears of pure amusement now streaming down my face. "A perfectly lovely day - to die!"

The small device I wore at my waist, concealed in my profusion of bulging fat, that was set on a timer, the lever of which I had triggered even before I released the poison within my tooth. 

With any luck, they would be gathered close around my convulsing body just in time. Even those on the outskirts of the room, if they were not within its limited range, they would not go unscathed.

I heard my laughter turn to helpless giggles at the mental image of them being covered in pieces of myself, and as Meyer and Lauder and their hounds closed in, I started to seize and shake and welcomed the very odd sensation. Well, it meant I had been successful, after all. 

Now, the only question was whether I would be aware of the coming explosion. I rather thought not. Sergeant Carter is most expert, both at the concocting of not only chemical compounds, but explosives as well, or so my dear Gertruda has assured me. Certainly she has every confidence in both the potion and the device he was persuaded by a mutual friend to provide for her as well.

Odd, perhaps, that I owe this satisfying ending to one I had once considered an enemy. Still, I have lifted a finger on his, their behalf more than a few times. 

"Damn you, Burkhalter! Someone fetch a doctor! He cannot be allowed to get away with this!!!" Lauder yelled.

"Yes, a very good day to die," I assured him, assured them all.

And then, we did.


End file.
